


Blood and Gold

by tropicalgothic



Category: Naruto
Genre: Charis OC, M/M, Some Sasori and Rasa background mostly headcanons, This was just supposed to be a quick AU write up, Visna OC, look where it's gotten me, war is shit and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 11:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tropicalgothic/pseuds/tropicalgothic
Summary: It's hard to befriend a stinging scorpion. Still, when Rasa meets the youngest member of the Ghouls, he tries.
Relationships: Rasa/Sasori (Naruto)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Multi-Sasori





	Blood and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Special credits to [shipcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipcat/pseuds/shipcat)! Who was the person I've exchanged a good amount of these ideas with-- and a specific line about broken porcelain things came from her.
> 
> Visna and Charis are OCs of [spycaptain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spycaptain/pseuds/spycaptain)
> 
> [The Ghouls](https://sunagakurenosato.tumblr.com/post/189974683566/headcanon-the-ghouls) are mentioned here often and I have them as a headcanoned company that was infamous in the Desert Front of the Third shinobi war-- specifically for cruel and usual war tactics.

Sasori had already made a name for himself as both the youngest and the oldest of the “Ghouls” by the time he met Rasa, Charis, and Visna (he was the youngest by age but has stayed in the company the longest). It was in a joint operation with Rasa’s team leading the enemy shinobi into a valley surrounded by high rock formations— and the Ghouls swooping in for the ambush.

Rasa, who was himself the youngest in his team, mentioned his surprise at leaving the ambush itself to the Ghouls. The siblings, Charis and Visna, were… not at all surprised, and they reminded Rasa of the Ghouls’ ranks and their kill counts.

The ambush was swift—- with all the enemy nin bleeding into the desert sands by the time Rasa’s team checked up on the Ghouls.

Most of those involved were more than happy to just quietly burn the bodies of their dead enemies as offerings to the war gods of the desert (but only after spilling a bit more blood and reciting incantations for continued good fortunes in the battles against Konoha). Rasa, on the other hand, took that moment to ask Sasori how he was feeling.

See, Rasa wasn’t, by any means, sheltered as a shinobi. No one in Suna was. But he considered himself lucky— that his first missions, his first kill, the first massacre under the weight of his gold dust were shared with both Charis and Visna. After the erosion of the self expected in Sunagakure, both his teammates filled in the gaps where isolation, destruction, and hopelessness would have taken root like black mold rotting a foundation from within. Somewhere in the siblings’ apartment, between trembling hands and something wet in his eyes, a newly-made Genin picked up pieces of his humanity while a soothing hand rubbed his back. _You can still be you— that should be worth something._

Rasa did not see the same with Sasori— instead, he saw chips on the surface and a hollow within. It almost echoed in its loneliness to Rasa.

Sasori did not share the same view.

“You’re kind of soft for a soldier,” Sasori pointed out. Rasa sputtered into his can of water, spilling a few precious droplets on his shirt. “I like it.” Sasori nodded and left Rasa to make what he would of that statement.

x.X.x

It was after their third mission together that Rasa invited the Ghouls to drinks. Charis nudged him, and Rasa corrected himself— “Non-alcoholic drinks! Like sodas!”

Most of the Ghouls laughed, and Charis just shook his head.

 _What?_ Rasa mouthed.

“You’ll have to excuse Rasa— that’s his failing liver talking. But we’re grabbing something to eat before we head home. Do you want to come along?”

The laughter dissipated into quiet glances at each other. 

At once, the Ghouls understood that this was a sincere invitation. Their line of work did not encourage these things— that only made news of death harder and heavier. But there was one of the Ghouls who accepted that offer.

Sasori even brought a set of medicinal tonics to the eatery. “For your liver.”

x.X.x

“They keep getting younger and younger,” Visna pointed out after Sasori left.

“Except for the council seats,” Charis flicked a lemon seed into one of the empty glasses. “I think half of them are older than Suna itself.”

“Maybe we could fill up a few seats when they wither away,” Rasa laughed.

The next lemon seed from Charis hit Rasa’s temple. “Someone getting ambitious?”

“Not ambitious,” Rasa corrected, staring into the direction Sasori left in. “It’s just— war is—“ _I’d like to put a stop to the wars if I could._ “It would be nice to be assured that, in the end, you’re fighting for something good—- “

Or just fighting for _something_. He threw the lemon seed back at Charis.

Charis thought better than to ruin the mood by pointing out the reality. That with the council’s values and interests serving as the foundation of this whole village— one can’t expect any sort of change. At least, not passively.

As they stood up to go home, Rasa turned to Visna. “Weren’t we a little younger than that when we started?”

“Hm?”

“You mentioned something about them getting younger and younger— earlier—“

“I’m not referring to missions in general,” Visna started walking down the street. “You rack up a body count that high, that early, that fast as a norm—-“ She paused, and waited for Rasa to catch up to her. “That’s a long long way to fall.’”

x.X.x

Sasori was not there the next time Rasa worked with the Ghouls. When he asked about Sasori, he was met with mild teasing and the eventual heavy truth. Once Sasori was able to wield 10 puppets in one go, he was sent to the frontlines of the war.

x.X.x

“Sasori!”

He was covered in blood. There was so much blood. There were so many bodies all around them— most of them empty of blood and guts. This part of the desert front was thick with carnage--- Rasa had to pour chakra into his feet just to walk over all of them. Blood and gore as far as the eye can see.

And Sasori, bloody and pale, lay motionless in his arms.

“Is it—“ Rasa could hear Charis call from somewhere. _Do we need a medic?_ He has— he has forgotten where to check the pulse. Or breath? He could check for—

Then, there was a hand that rested on Sasori’s neck.

A beat.

“Call for a stretcher, please,” the responding medic instructed Charis. “I got a carotid and a radial.” The medic continued speaking, even if Rasa could not understand what he meant. He laid a hand on the man’s stomach and then pulsed a wave of chakra through Sasori’s body. He pulled out a bottle of bright blue lacquer and spread a heavy amount on Sasori’s cheek(1). The medic was about to stand up and leave when—

“Hey, wait—“ Rasa reached out for his hand. “What does clear mean? What are you—“

“There might be others that are still alive—- I can’t—“ the medic looked down at Sasori, and that when Rasa noticed the rattle of the bottle in his trembling hands. The medic was around Sasori’s age. “Even if——“

“I can’t sense anymore living chakras,” another shinobi bearing the red cross of a medic walked up the mountain of bodies towards them, the exhaustion written all over her face. “We can treat—- oh gods, it really is—- Come on, Yasha. Stay with me here.”

The woman opened up a scroll that transformed into a stretcher, still stained with blood along the edges and right at the center. A mute Rasa watched as they lifted Sasori and brought him to the nearest medical tent.

Rasa sat on the pile of corpses for a second or two more, the heat from decomposing flesh rising all around him. That meant they could save Sasori, right? It meant that Sasori had been able to lie hidden and safe— relatively.

He did not know. He wasn’t sure.

Rasa made his way to where Charis and Visna held three enemy nin for interrogation. As he walked over the bodies piled on top of each other, Rasa started noticing their uniforms— always, always the maroon and of Iwagakure. He couldn’t remember the last Suna uniform he had seen— must have been miles back.

Well, except for Sasori’s.

“How is he?” Visna asked once he was close enough. They were a few meters away from the last dead body.

“He’s the only one alive,” Rasa said, something that felt _wrong_ churning in his gut. “That’s what the medics said.” And not much else.

“He’s been the only one alive,” came one Iwa nin. A kunai was stuck on his heaving chest and every breath sounded like a whistle. “—for a few days now. He kept— coming at us—“ one breath, one whistle. “He just— wouldn’t stop—- wouldn’t stop— “

“—Not until the very sands turned red with blood,” continued another Iwa-nin, his eyes distant and still fighting. “There must have been a thousand of us.”

“And now, only three,” Rasa said, looking once more at the mountain of rot behind them. “They’re right,” he confirmed, “Since finding Sasori’s body, there were only Iwa dead in this corner.”

“I’ll bring them back to camp,” Visna said, pulling up one of the men by the chakra seals she wrapped them in. “Maybe you can find some of Sasori’s puppets. They could still be salvageable before people decide to just burn all the bodies.”

Rasa paused.

He hasn’t seen any of Sasori’s puppets. Not even one beside his bloodied body.

x.X.x

Sasori was already awake by the time Rasa finished filing the report. Awake, washed up and wrapped in fresh clothes. There was an apple in his hands and a full plate of food lay ignored on his bedside.

He stared at nothing and did not attempt to acknowledge Rasa entering the tent.

Rasa remembered the first time they met— how he had an inkling of the chips on the surface and the hollow. Now, Sasori had fallen from a mountain of dead bodies and lay on the ground, a broken porcelain doll.

x.X.x

 _You don’t pick up glass shards, Rasa_ his mother told him once. _All you’re going to do is cut yourself._

He wasn’t playing with broken pieces, he told himself. They had been friends, after all. They had fought together several times before— he wasn’t trying to put someone back together. Just— just— 

“What are you doing?” Sasori hissed at him. 

_I don’t know yet._ “I didn’t catch the awarding—“ and the naming. Sasori of the Red Sands— if only people knew how deep the blood ran.

“You’re forgiven,” Sasori gestured towards the door. “Now, go. I have to finish crafting this.”

“Are those new puppets?”

Sasori did not bother answering because he didn’t need to. Splinters were all that was left of his old puppets— if was going to be battle-ready, he needed to fashion a set all over again.

“Where were you reassigned?”

“I’m not reassigned,” Sasori reached out for chisel and started his work.

“You can’t—“ Rasa walked towards him, the panic gripping at his throat. “You can’t go back to the frontlines. Not after—“

“I’ve proven myself,” Sasori said, keeping his eyes focused on the puppet head he was carving. Wood shavings fell on the table with each measured stroke. “I am one of Sunagakure’s best. If I wanted a bigger budget for the Puppet Brigade, the Kazekage would say _name your price_. If I wanted people to fear me, I would let them know who Sasori of the Red Sands was.”

“Sasori—“

“So _what_ “ the puppet head came flying right at Rasa and splintered against the gold dust that came to shield him. Sasori’s lips were contorted into a snarl, “could you possibly offer me that is worth _my time_?” He stalked towards Rasa, chisel and anger gripped hard in his hand. “I have _everything_ a shinobi of Sunagakure could possibly want. What I don’t have is the time to waste on—“

“I don’t have anything to offer,” Rasa confessed. 

Sasori sighed. “Time-waster,” he said, rolling his eyes and tossing the chisel back at his table.

“The only valuable thing here is you.”

A pause. “What?”

“I value your company,” Rasa weaved through cultural norms, trying to find the right way to say this. The _best_ way. “Both during our missions together and when we go out with Charis and Visna. I value the moments we share together— just you and me, few as they are. And there was a moment where I thought all of that would be no more.”

“What are you saying?” Sasori asked.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Rasa said, turning his head away at how forward that was. How emotional— unbefitting of men of their occupation. “I know I can’t give you what you want— not glory, not infamy, not all the riches in Suna. I don’t have that power. But if there was something else that——“

Rasa turned to see Sasori with his back against the table drawers, sinking into the floor.

“Sasori?” Rasa knelt beside him and— he didn’t know what to expect. But certainly, arms thrown around his neck, and Sasori’s head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m buying your silence,” Sasori hissed, his arms pulling Rasa lower. “For my time— I am buying your secrecy on this. Just…”

Somewhere in his basement, between his arms thrown around Rasa’s neck, and something wet in his eyes, Sasori thought he could pick up the pieces of a shattered porcelain doll while a soothing hand rubbed his back.

**Author's Note:**

> (1) In disaster situations, there is a common way of triaging patients who might need medical attention. Usually, colors are assigned (Green you're mostly okay, Yellow you're not okay but you're not going to die, Red you're gonna die if people don't do something ASAP, Black you're either dead or dying). In my headcanons, Sunagakure doesn't always have the resources to put cards on everybody the encounter the battlefield. So they've simplified this system into placing blue on the most recognizable surface for any shinobi that medics should prioritize or come back to ASAP-- while another medic continues to examine the field. Not the best system but sometimes you gotta deal with the resources available.


End file.
